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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596669">Take Me Home, Country Roads</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskHumanity/pseuds/MaskHumanity'>MaskHumanity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Logan Lucky (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Driving, F/M, Fluff, Short &amp; Sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:20:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>440</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskHumanity/pseuds/MaskHumanity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An extremely short Clyde Logan one shot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clyde Logan/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Take Me Home, Country Roads</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Listen to Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver for the ultimate effect.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>ALMOST HEAVEN</strong>
</p><p>The unfiltered sunlight which poured into the tiny trailer, the expanse of flannel sheets and mismatched plaids which smelled so sweet and spicy like Clyde, that mouthwatering scent lingering in the air - burned bacon and something baked... something dying to be smothered in sticky maple syrup. That was almost heaven. The heaven came with his lips on yours.</p><p>
  <strong>WEST VIRGINIA</strong>
</p><p>Was it that humble beauty, that resiliency, or that deep rooted sense of family and community that made him so perfectly West Virginian? His love of Blue Ridge Mountains, the way his body had grown into one you wanted to climb? The rivers of veins in his corded arms, as strong as the current of the Shenandoah?</p><p>
  <strong>COUNTRY ROADS, TAKE ME HOME</strong>
</p><p>Home was his arms. Home was the country roads the pair of you would often drive at sunset. Home was Boone County. Home was his voice and the way he'd belt John Denver like a prayer. Home was Clyde.</p><p>
  <strong>TO THE PLACE I BELONG</strong>
</p><p>Where did he belong? Clyde had always felt asunder, misplaced, even in his own skin. Whether He'd blame it on the Logan curse or just this ridiculous notion he didn't deserve nothin' good in the world, Clyde was damn near sure he’d never find a place he belonged. Then there was you, and he finally belonged. Whether you'd stay in West Virginia or take him somewhere new, he'd belong with you.</p><p>
  <strong>TAKE ME HOME, COUNTRY ROADS</strong>
</p><p>Home was your arms. Home was the country roads the pair of you would often drive at sunset. Home was your first kiss in the parking lot of his bar. Home was your laugh and the way you'd say his name in the night. Home was you.</p><p>
  <strong>ALL MY MEMORIES GATHER 'ROUND HER</strong>
</p><p>Nothin' like meeting you and feelin' like he'd known you his whole life, nothin' like knowin' you better than he'd known himself. You became every tradition, every ritual, every prayer he'd ever uttered on Sunday... and then, also, you were the answer. </p><p>
  <em>"Country roads, take me home</em><br/>
<em>To the place I belong</em><br/>
<em>West Virginia, mountain mama</em><br/>
<em>Take me home, country roads."</em>
</p><p>The pair of you belted John Denver from the top of your lungs, taking a long drive down the West Virginian highway together in the evening sun. Snuggled close in the cab of his 1973 Pontiac Gran Prix, windows down, your arm hooked in his right arm, head resting on his bicep. The two of you in silent agreement with the tune and the tone of the song coming through the radio.</p><p>Almost heaven.<br/>
West Virginia.<br/>
Country Roads.</p><p>"Take me home, Clyde."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love Clyde Logan ♡ </p><p>feedback is always appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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